There's some things a martini can't fix
by gackt groupie
Summary: There's more to Tony than he lets on-so much in fact that if he'd known then Cap wouldn't have been so flippant with him. He has his ghosts, like everyone does. He's just too good at hiding it, until one night Bruce walks in and plays witness to a very fragile and vulnerable slip of the man's mask.


Don't ask him what made him head towards Tony's room. He'd been in the middle of a project and he knew Tony to be sleeping off a two-day streak of non-stop experimentation. From one scientist to another, he perfectly understood what it was like to be so utterly engrossed in your work that you lost days at a time. He also understood the inevitable crash that resulted.

Either way, he knew that Tony wasn't expected to resurface for several more hours. Yet as he sat crouched over his microscope he was struck with an urge to check on him. He ignored it, pushed it away, but it persisted. It grew. _Find Tony,_ it said, over and over until it threatened to consume his thought process.

_Find Tony. Find Tony. Find Tony._

When working with unstable and radioactive substances, an sort of distraction could prove disastrous.

_Find Tony._

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. He needed a break anyway, his back was stiff and he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. As he left the lab he stretched his arms above his head and strolled up the steps at a leisurely pace. The house appeared deserted. Nothing moved or clicked. Jarvis had closed the blinds for the night and Pepper was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had left for the day. Looking at the clock on the wall confirmed that yes, Pepper usually was gone by now. It was past 11 pm, was almost midnight actually. Perhaps now would be a good time to go to sleep himself.

_Find Tony._

After that, of course.

He strolled down the hall that led to the master bedroom. Tony's door was left open a crack, the perpetually muted lighting of the mansion leaving a stripe of light seeping into the dark room. It wasn't until he heard small pained moans that he quickened his pace, half-running the last ten feet to the door and opening it the rest of the way. The sliver of light expanded throughout the room and Bruce's heart nearly stopped when Tony was revealed.

He was writhing on the bed, tremors wracking through his body, his skin slick and shining with sweat. His breathing was ragged and the way he kept trying to curl tighter into a fetal ball told him that this wasn't a pleasant dream he was having. He was in pain in a way that transcended physicality. No, this was _inside. _

The monster in him sensed the fear and horror in his cries and was confused. Tony was in in pain and afraid, yet it perceived no danger. It raged inside him, wanting to maim and destroy this invisible threat. Perhaps it was a blessing that it wasn't the deciding party of his actions, he thought as he leaned in from the doorway.

"Tony?" he asked tentatively. He went unanswered but for another moan.

"Stop. _Stop. Please," _he murmured into his pillow. Bruce crossed the threshold without another thought and was at Stark's side in an instant. He was hesitant at first, his hands hovering above the heaving body. He was at a total loss as to what to do.

_He still remembers Afghanistan. _he heard J.A.R.V.I.S whisper above him. _This happens sometimes. Hold him, bring him back to reality, to safety._

So Bruce's hands descended onto Tony's arm, his fingers gently splaying on the shoulder. Tony flinches away and his fingers retreat again.

"Don't _touch me!" _he hissed. Bruce swallowed a hard lump in his throat and tried again, to the same result.

"Tony-"

"_Don't. _Don't you fucking touch me!" his voice was more of a snarl and he seemed more agitated then ever. Bruce looked back up to the ceiling.

"I..I don't know what to do. I can't."

_Keep trying. Anything you do can't possibly be worst than letting him sit it out. It's all I've been able to do in the past. _the computer responded solemnly. Bruce didn't know it was possible for a machine to convey regret. He turned back to the man beside him and saw for the first time that he was crying.

"Yinsen. Where are you Yensin?" Tony asked. Without really thinking Bruce tried touching him a third time by putting a gentle hand over Tony's, the one that was clutching his comforter.

"I'm here. I'm right here. There's nobody here," he said quietly, because he didn't know what else to do. Astonishingly, Tony relaxed. His tremors stopped, though his breathing did little to improve and tears continued to trickle down his cheek and arm.

"They're gone. Dead. All dead." he sobbed. Bruce stroked his thumb along Tony's knuckles, which were white from their exertion. "Dead, I blew them all up. I'm rich and they're dead. You're dead. _Dead."_

"No, no. Not at all," Bruce soothed, his heart pounding. The man in the bed shook his head.

"I saw you. Dead. All dead. I'm so sorry. I'm _sorry._ All dead.." he continued to moan. Bruce crawled halfway onto the bed. He leaned over the man and cupped the man's face in his hands. Tony allowed it, allowed 'Yensin' to press his forehead to his.

"It's not your fault, Tony. Not your fault. Neither I or anyone else blames you for what happened."

"Yensin."

"Don't Tony. It's alright." he whispered, stroking the mans hair gently. Tony leaned into him, allowing him to wrap and arm around his shoulders and pull him close. With a bit of maneuvering he found himself cradling a still sleeping Tony in his lap and against his chest.

"Tony, I'm here," he whispered into his hair. "I need you to wake up. Please."

The man shivered and gave a questioning murmur. Bruce chanced a small shake on his shoulder.

"Come one. Wake up."

"What-"

Bruce forced Tony's towards his own. "_Tony,"_ he said more firmly. This time the man blinked, and his crazed eyes gained focus. He was gasping as if he could breathe and he struggled out of Bruce's grasp. He managed to roll over, stick his head over the edge of the bed and wretch dryly for a few minutes while Bruce sat patiently beside him, stroking a hand down his spine.

"It's alright, Tony. You're alright."

"Bruce?" he gasped around his raw throat. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Bruce continued to stroke Tony's back as he helped him sit back up in bed.

"I came to check on you, and you were...shaking," he offered. Stark gave him a sidelong glance with a quirked eyebrow. He rubbed his stubbled chin, scratched his head. He needed a shower, and his mouth was dry. He also needed a drink.

"Jesus," he croaked. "Sorry, man." He leaned against Bruce, laid his head on his shoulder. He was tired, despite having slept half the day away.

Bruce shrugged.

"We all have our demons, Tony. Some more obvious than others," he responded quietly, nudging the other man with his shoulder. Tony snickered in quiet laughter.

"Yeah, not all of us can just turn into a big green rage monster," a beat, then-

"Who's Yensin?"

Tony tensed and pushed away from his slightly. Bruce spoke quickly.

"Uh, you were talking to him in your sleep. Sorry, I couldn't think of what-"

"No, it's fine, I..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. "I'm not ready. For all that. Please, just...you know.."

Bruce nodded.

"Of course. You don't have to tell me. I understand." he pressed Tony's forehead to his again. "Just promise me that if you need...um...you'll come to me, right?"

Tony nodded and stroked a hand down his face.

"Yeah. I promise."


End file.
